


A New Favorite Pastime

by windsocktier



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oneshot, i don't know how to tag i'm sry, just cute fluff, wrestling around and being cute dorks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windsocktier/pseuds/windsocktier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just John and Dave messing around and being dorks.  A fluffy oneshot full of John's shenanigans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Favorite Pastime

Lately (as in the last several months), Dave had been making a habit of coming over just out of a whim, even as far as sneaking in when you weren’t home and just lounging around on the couch or raiding your fridge. It was the strangest thing and, you know, if it were anyone else— well, almost anyone; Rose and Jade might have gotten away with it, too— you would have gotten rather angry after awhile. 

Not that it didn’t frustrate you. It did. But… not near as much and for all the same reasons as it probably should have? It was a tough call, it’s not like you had had experienced this sort of behavior from anyone else. You’re just speculating. Either way, you enjoyed having Dave’s company. That wasn’t the issue. You just wished… he’d let you know he was actually here when he came. Since, well, honestly it was a little weird waking up in the morning after falling asleep in what you assumed was an empty house only to find your best friend asleep on your couch in the morning. Made you feel bad, actually, because if you knew he was over, you would have woken up earlier so you could have made breakfast for the both of you. Instead, you would just eat a bowl of cereal and leave because you didn’t really have the time before work.

Or, like now, you were sitting in your room on your laptop playing Minecraft with Dave and laughing at his dumb antics. You had no idea he was actually in your living room till you heard him dash upstairs for the bathroom. With a huff, you picked up your things and relocated yourself downstairs on the couch, lounging there next to Dave’s things while you waited for him to come out. 

You also might have plucked a bunch of red flowers in Minecraft and were in the process of throwing them all at Dave’s character when he came downstairs. As a joke combined with revenge, obviously. (No homo. Maybe some homo. A **_liiiiiiiittle_ ** homo. You totally weren’t arguing about this with yourself in your head.) 

Dave’s reaction when he came downstairs to find you there was pretty Strider standard. Rather un-phased, minus the momentary staring in your direction. You simply grinned at him and chucked a throw pillow at him, which he, of course, simply caught and chucked back at you. But who’s counting? You aren’t. 

You _did_ accuse him of deliberately making you feel like a terrible host, though (jokingly). You don’t think he’d ever deliberately make you feel bad, however his reasons for constantly always crashing at your place when he has a perfectly fine place of his own really baffles you. This conversation leads to your usual bout of rough housing— setting aside your laptops and tackling each other while throwing playful insults. (It’s a favorite pastime.) This time, you both end up on the floor, wriggling around as you both struggle to pin the other down when you pause in a sudden thought— if Dave really wanted to, he could easily have won. He’s stronger than you. You’re a little taller than him, but only by an inch or two (maybe three, tops) and you’re thin as a rail. Not even broad. Dave isn’t necessarily broad, either, but he’s more muscular than you. All that strifing with his Bro, you bet. The older Strider’s built like a damn wall.

Yet, here you are, pinning Dave down with your palms pressing down against his shoulders, knees pinning his thighs to the carpet. Both your glasses are askew, Dave’s face partially blurry but you don’t care, you’ve just had a strange revelation. Did he always go easy on you? And why the hell are you thinking about this now?? You probably look dumb, gawking with your mouth partially open and panting— you’re both panting, actually. 

"What’s the matter, Egbert? Not satisfied having me pinned so expertly beneath you?" Dave said after a moment, trying to mask his own breathlessness. Probably didn’t add much to his coolkid image. You can’t help how much redder your face gets at this comment, though— you can’t. Lately, it just seems like… there’s a lot of… Ok, you don’t know how else to put it, but there’s _tension_ here. _You_ can feel it. Not like. _Bad_ tension, more like… holy-shit-your-best-friend-is-lookin’-pretty-damn- _hot_ -right-now tension. You dare not to actually think about it too much, or try not to anyway, because that’s pretty gay and you’re not sure how you feel about that just yet. You’re pretty sure you’ve always been straight, so it’s just a bit off-putting. You fumble to speak, to respond, but you’ve got nothing. How the hell Dave manages to get you to flounder on words is beyond you. No one else can leave you so flustered you can’t form a coherent thought. You blame the lack of oxygen for the incoherent stuttering of syllables that fall from your lips right then, leaving Dave, fucking **_Dave_** , to laugh. Dave. Dave, _laughing_. Man. If he weren’t laughing at you, you’d laugh with him because Dave laughing is a pretty great thing.

You didn’t just think that. 

"Ok, if you say so, Egderp. You asked for it." You’re not even sure what he’s talking about till all of a sudden the tides have turned and Dave’s got _you_ pinned now. So swift, smooth, and effortless, it left your head whirling. 

"Whoa, what, h-hey!!" you shout in confused protest. Dave's smirking down at you, though, aviators askew and you catch a glimpse of red— wait. You've never seen Dave's eyes before; he's always wearing those dumb shades you got him for his thirteenth birthday that obscure his eyes and a good portion of his face. So, red?? Are... are his eyes actually  _red_?  "Uh." You're overcome with a strong need to see fully for yourself, just to know if it's just a trick of the lighting or something. 

But, you can’t move your arms.

"Hey what, John? You gonna spill the beans?" 

"Take off your shades," you suddenly demand. The words just fly out of your lips, unfettered and completely unexpected from you both. A silence fell between you and Dave, your eyes following his blond brows upward behind the fall of his bangs.

"I… what, no way." Swiftly, a hand rose from your arm to straighten his shades and that’s when you made your move. It was completely automatic, you didn’t even have a moment to stop yourself, to think about what you were doing, before you both were wriggling all over the living room floor again— this time with greater intensity. "Dammit John! No!" 

"But— please? Come on, just this once!! I just, I want to see!" You never saw yourself whining over something like this, but here you were. Whining. 

"Goddamn, John, you can’t just ask a lady to strip bare for you, just lay off the shades!" 

"But— Dave—" 

Eventually, in a tangle of limbs, you found yourself pinning Dave down again, but, just as you were reaching out victoriously, you felt something against your leg giving you pause. Eyebrows shot up and you could see the tinge of red spreading all over Dave’s pale face as he went stiff beneath you— in, well, more ways than one. 

"O-oh—" You hesitated, initially shocked, then suddenly you felt yourself grinning. You don’t think this is the typical reaction a dude has when their best friend pops such an obvious boner while you both were just wrestling around. You’re torn between feeling like an ass for finding this amusing and wanting to tease the ever living shit out of him. It was a serious toss up and this just…

Made you feel really fucking gay. 

Screw it. It’s not like you didn’t like those ironic bro cuddles way more than you should have when you two watched movies or shows together. Or… or, ok, you might have almost kissed Dave once before you caught yourself in your stupor. You had blamed your lack of sleep at the time. This is a terrible time to let it all go, though. You knew that in the back of your head. Dave was probably freaking out in his own Strider fashion. But, hey, whatever. All you could think about was the obvious tension between you two. He was all flustered and, ok, it was more than a little attractive, especially knowing _you_ were making him lose his cool. It was _all_   ** _you_**.

But. 

No. No no no. Bad idea. 

"Alright. I’ll forget the shades for now," you finally say, voice a lot smoother than you expected it to be. A part of you told you you should get off, let Dave compose himself, all that— but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not till he demanded it, anyway. 

"…John. John, get off me." The words were spoken relatively even, but you could sense the restraint there. And, though you hesitated, you slowly got up.  


Once you stood, Dave got up and quickly flash stepped his way to the bathroom upstairs leaving you alone in the living room. Quickly, you fixed your glasses, realizing they were still sitting crooked on your face and sighed. Man, you almost kissed him. But, that could have been potentially terrible considering the circumstances. Can’t deny it and say you didn’t want to, though. Denial was getting awfully difficult these days. Rather, it wasn’t even denial that stopped you lately. It was… something else. Fear? You did wonder why Dave, who could have anyone he wanted, would want a dork like you. Didn’t think it possible, not really.

But, well, if you could get him so flustered without even trying, then, damn. It was some weird miracle. Slowly, you climbed upstairs to wait just outside the bathroom for Dave, leaning up against the wall. He seemed to take forever in there, the sound of the fan and running water muffling most everything else. You tried not to feel a little disappointed— focus, John, focus. You were trying to think about what to say or do when he came out. 

Maybe… try and talk about what happened? Yeah, fuck no. That would be awkward. Kiss him? No, bad idea. (You want to, though.) You’re thinking about this way too much. 

As soon as Dave opened the door to step out, you were right in front of him. You had no real plan of action, so you just… went with a whim. “Dave,” you said as you watched his brows rise up, the only sign of surprise on his face. “Let’s… Let’s watch something on Netflix.” 

Ok. Not the best idea in the world, but ok. (If Dave liked you for your “brilliant” ideas, then obviously he was as dillusional as thirteen year old you.) 

You saw the way his brows furrowed at you (he was giving you a strange look, you’re sure of it) even as he opened his mouth to respond. But you were already grabbing his hand and pulling him downstairs, not taking no for an answer. It was quite simple, really. You didn’t want him running off because he felt awkward or was afraid you’d feel awkward. No, none of that. (Probably wouldn’t have happened anyway, but better safe than sorry, right?) You two were going to watch dumb shit on Netflix while curled up under a blanket on the couch together. Yeah, you’ve both done this before. …Yeah, it was pretty gay, but you're starting to think you’re pretty ok with that. You keep going back for more, after all.

So. Yeah. You don’t even know what you selected once you turned the TV on. You don’t even care. Dave’s dumb commentary always made it a pretty great experience. But, he seemed reluctant to curl up against you this time around when, typically, he would have sprawled all over you if you so much as protested to him leaning against you. Not that you had ever made any serious protests. Just joking ones. It was always playful between you two. Well, almost always. You both knew when things were serious, though they rarely were. 

All the same, it made you question yourself, now that you were reflecting on it all. In a weird way, you just… encouraged him. Welcomed this. …Wanted this without truly realizing you had wanted this. 

Somewhere in the middle of whatever you guys were watching (it was some ridiculous indie action comedy; you _were_ watching, really, you just didn’t remember the name of the movie), you had given up waiting for Dave to cuddle to you like he usually did and pulled him to you yourself. You didn’t look for his expression, but you felt him briefly stiffen against you— all tense and wary— before he relaxed, slumping against you and pulling the blanket up closer to cover his shoulders. 

Toward the end, as credits were about to roll, you glanced down at him. He’d been rather quiet the past five or ten minutes and you wondered if he had fallen asleep. But, no, you caught him staring at you, you know he was staring at you because of the way his head was angled and the slight twitch he made soon as your gaze fixed upon his, even through his shades. You could see the outline of his eyes even in the dim light of the tv screen, despite the dark shades obscuring his face— you were both just mere inches from one another and you couldn’t stand holding back any longer. 

So, you may or may not have kissed him. 

No. No, you _definitely_ kissed him. It was small, tentative— a gentle brushing of your lips to his because, goddamn, you weren’t sure what you were doing at all. You just… you went with it. And, boy, were you surprised by the reaction you got. 

Sure, at first, Dave was quietly complicit— surprised, perhaps, that you had actually initiated this contact for all the stepping around and dodging you had done… But, then, soon as it registered what was going on, Dave did more than simply reciprocate. He pressed against you and pushed for more, which you more than willingly gave him. A hand rose to his cheek, your glasses clacking against Dave’s shades as you pulled him in, tongues tangling in a fervent battle for more. At some point, you both became frustrated with how much his shades and your glasses kept getting in the way, so you removed them, parting long enough to lean around Dave and set them aside on the coffee table next to your laptops— Minecraft long since forgotten. 

As you turn back to Dave, you catch his gaze— now bare and open to you, though the low lighting still partially obscured his features. He seemed to suddenly realize this, now that you both weren’t kissing each other like your lives depended on it, and attempted to turn away, closing his eyes. 

"Dave," you whispered softly, your voice a low murmur as you raised both your hands to his cheeks now, gently turning his face to you. "Is it really so bad? It’s just me here, no one else. No one else can see." 

Somehow, this seemed to ease Dave, though he remained hesitant. You leaned in to brush your lips against his pale skin, fingers trailing back into his hair. So soft, such soft blond hair— rippling like water against your calloused digits. Slowly, he reopened his eyes to look at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Well, there you go, Egderp. You wanted to see me all bare and naked, and here I am, exposed to you. Better take a good look because this might be the last chance you ever get. Everyone will be jealous, you have no idea what they might do.” 

You grinned, amused by Dave’s dumb rambling. “You’re such a dork,” you murmur, finally meeting his gaze, really meeting his gaze for the first time sans the shades. You can’t help but stare, blue eyes darting from one red hue to the next in the dim light, such a pure breathtaking red you don’t want to ever look away. “And they should be jealous, you know, your eyes are goddamn beautiful.”

"Wh-what, shut up, Egbert, you’re… Mnnf—" 

You didn’t even let him finish, chuckling as you pulled him in again to crush your lips to his. Getting Dave all flustered like that was literally your new favorite pastime. 

**Author's Note:**

> screams. i’m so ashamed of this writing. and yet at the same time, gdi john and dave are just cutes i can’t  
> hhhhhh //breathes heavily  
> well. i hope you guys liked it anyway. kajfiowfafwef  
> i sort of wrote this for my girlfriend, who writes such a great dave (a much much MUCH better dave than mine). she is my dave to my john.  
> you can also find me on tumblr; i originally posted this on my johndave writing blog, http://windsocktierx.tumblr.com/  
> i also roleplay john at http://windsocktier.tumblr.com/  
> and i post dumb johndave drawings from my sketchbook on my personal, http://arsgratiaartisx.tumblr.com/ with the tag johndave. (all drawings under the tag ;sketchbook)  
> //shameless advertising?? idk  
> //rOLLS AWAY NOW


End file.
